The Return Of Sherlock Holmes (Annotated): A Sherlock Holmes Short Story Collection

Arthur Conan Doyle: The Return of Sherlock Holmes

THE RETURN OF SHERLOCK HOLMES (illustrated, complete, and unabridged with the original illustrations)

The Return of Sherlock Holmes

Sherlock Holmes: The Ultimate Collection (Illustrated)

The Return of Sherlock Holmes

"You got it, then?"

"Yes, I got it."

"I am very glad if I have helped you."

"But you haven't helped me. You have made the affair far moredifficult. What sort of burglars are they who steal silver andthen throw it into the nearest pond?"

"It was certainly rather eccentric behaviour. I was merelygoing on the idea that if the silver had been taken by personswho did not want it, who merely took it for a blind as it were,then they would naturally be anxious to get rid of it."

"But why should such an idea cross your mind?"

"Well, I thought it was possible. When they came out throughthe French window there was the pond, with one tempting littlehole in the ice, right in front of their noses. Could there bea better hiding-place?"

"Ah, a hiding-place -- that is better!" cried Stanley Hopkins. "Yes, yes, I see it all now! It was early, there were folkupon the roads, they were afraid of being seen with the silver,so they sank it in the pond, intending to return for it whenthe coast was clear. Excellent, Mr. Holmes -- that is betterthan your idea of a blind."

"Quite so; you have got an admirable theory. I have no doubtthat my own ideas were quite wild, but you must admit that theyhave ended in discovering the silver."

"Yes, sir, yes. It was all your doing. But I have hada bad set-back."

"A set-back?"

"Yes, Mr. Holmes. The Randall gang were arrested in New Yorkthis morning."

"Dear me, Hopkins! That is certainly rather against yourtheory that they committed a murder in Kent last night."

"It is fatal, Mr. Holmes, absolutely fatal. Still, there areother gangs of three besides the Randalls, or it may be somenew gang of which the police have never heard."

"Quite so; it is perfectly possible. What, are you off?"

Yes, Mr. Holmes; there is no rest for me until I have got to thebottom of the business. I suppose you have no hint to give me?"

"I have given you one."

"Which?"

"Well, I suggested a blind."

"But why, Mr. Holmes, why?"

"Ah, that's the question, of course. But I commend the ideato your mind. You might possibly find that there was somethingin it. You won't stop for dinner? Well, good-bye, and let usknow how you get on."

Dinner was over and the table cleared before Holmes alluded tothe matter again. He had lit his pipe and held his slipperedfeet to the cheerful blaze of the fire. Suddenly he looked athis watch.

"I expect developments, Watson."

"When?"

"Now -- within a few minutes. I dare say you thought I actedrather badly to Stanley Hopkins just now?"

"I trust your judgment."

"A very sensible reply, Watson. You must look at it this way:what I know is unofficial; what he knows is official. I havethe right to private judgment, but he has none. He must discloseall, or he is a traitor to his service. In a doubtful case Iwould not put him in so painful a position, and so I reserve myinformation until my own mind is clear upon the matter."

"But when will that be?"

"The time has come. You will now be present at the last sceneof a remarkable little drama."

There was a sound upon the stairs, and our door was opened toadmit as fine a specimen of manhood as ever passed through it.He was a very tall young man, golden-moustached, blue-eyed,with a skin which had been burned by tropical suns, and a springystep which showed that the huge frame was as active as it wasstrong. He closed the door behind him, and then he stood withclenched hands and heaving breast, choking down someovermastering emotion.

"Sit down, Captain Croker. You got my telegram?"

Our visitor sank into an arm-chair and looked from one to theother of us with questioning eyes.

"I got your telegram, and I came at the hour you said. I heardthat you had been down to the office. There was no getting awayfrom you. Let's hear the worst. What are you going to do with me? Arrest me? Speak out, man! You can't sit there and play with melike a cat with a mouse."

"Give him a cigar," said Holmes. "Bite on that, Captain Croker,and don't let your nerves run away with you. I should not sithere smoking with you if I thought that you were a common criminal,you may be sure of that. Be frank with me, and we may do some good. Play tricks with me, and I'll crush you."

"What do you wish me to do?"

"To give me a true account of all that happened at the AbbeyGrange last night -- a TRUE account, mind you, with nothing addedand nothing taken off. I know so much already that if you goone inch off the straight I'll blow this police whistle from mywindow and the affair goes out of my hands for ever."

The sailor thought for a little. Then he struck his leg withhis great, sun-burned hand.

"I'll chance it," he cried. "I believe you are a man of yourword, and a white man, and I'll tell you the whole story. But one thing I will say first. So far as I am concerned I regretnothing and I fear nothing, and I would do it all again and beproud of the job. Curse the beast, if he had as many lives as acat he would owe them all to me! But it's the lady, Mary --Mary Fraser -- for never will I call her by that accursed name. When I think of getting her into trouble, I who would give my lifejust to bring one smile to her dear face, it's that that turns mysoul into water. And yet -- and yet -- what less could I do? I'll tell you my story, gentlemen, and then I'll ask you as manto man what less could I do.

"I must go back a bit. You seem to know everything, so I expectthat you know that I met her when she was a passenger and I wasfirst officer of the ROCK OF GIBRALTAR. From the first day Imet her she was the only woman to me. Every day of that voyageI loved her more, and many a time since have I kneeled down inthe darkness of the night watch and kissed the deck of that shipbecause I knew her dear feet had trod it. She was never engagedto me. She treated me as fairly as ever a woman treated a man.I have no complaint to make. It was all love on my side, andall good comradeship and friendship on hers. When we parted shewas a free woman, but I could never again be a free man.

"Next time I came back from sea I heard of her marriage. Well, why shouldn't she marry whom she liked? Title and money --who could carry them better than she? She was born for allthat is beautiful and dainty. I didn't grieve over her marriage. I was not such a selfish hound as that. I just rejoiced that goodluck had come her way, and that she had not thrown herself awayon a penniless sailor. That's how I loved Mary Fraser.

"Well, I never thought to see her again; but last voyage I waspromoted, and the new boat was not yet launched, so I had towait for a couple of months with my people at Sydenham. One day out in a country lane I met Theresa Wright, her old maid. She told me about her, about him, about everything. I tell you,gentlemen, it nearly drove me mad. This drunken hound, that heshould dare to raise his hand to her whose boots he was not worthyto lick! I met Theresa again. Then I met Mary herself -- and met her again. Then she would meet me no more. But theother day I had a notice that I was to start on my voyage withina week, and I determined that I would see her once before I left. Theresa was always my friend, for she loved Mary and hated thisvillain almost as much as I did. From her I learnedthe ways of the house. Mary used to sit up reading in her ownlittle room downstairs. I crept round there last night andscratched at the window. At first she would not open to me,but in her heart I know that now she loves me, and she could notleave me in the frosty night. She whispered to me to come roundto the big front window, and I found it open before me so as tolet me into the dining-room. Again I heard from her own lipsthings that made my blood boil, and again I cursed this brutewho mishandled the woman that I loved. Well, gentlemen, I wasstanding with her just inside the window, in all innocence,as Heaven is my judge, when he rushed like a madman into the room,called her the vilest name that a man could use to a woman, andwelted her across the face with the stick he had in his hand. I had sprung for the poker, and it was a fair fight between us. See here on my arm where his first blow fell. Then it was myturn, and I went through him as if he had been a rotten pumpkin. Do you think I was sorry? Not I! It was his life or mine,but far more than that it was his life or hers, for how could Ileave her in the power of this madman? That was how I killed him. Was I wrong? Well, then, what would either of you gentlemenhave done if you had been in my position?"

"She had screamed when he struck her, and that brought oldTheresa down from the room above. There was a bottle of wineon the sideboard, and I opened it and poured a little betweenMary's lips, for she was half dead with the shock. Then I tooka drop myself. Theresa was as cool as ice, and it was her plotas much as mine. We must make it appear that burglars had donethe thing. Theresa kept on repeating our story to her mistress,while I swarmed up and cut the rope of the bell. Then I lashedher in her chair, and frayed out the end of the rope to make itlook natural, else they would wonder how in the world a burglarcould have got up there to cut it. Then I gathered up a fewplates and pots of silver, to carry out the idea of a robbery,and there I left them with orders to give the alarm when I hada quarter of an hour's start. I dropped the silver into thepond and made off for Sydenham, feeling that for once in my lifeI had done a real good night's work. And that's the truth andthe whole truth, Mr. Holmes, if it costs me my neck."

Holmes smoked for some time in silence. Then he crossedthe room and shook our visitor by the hand.

"That's what I think," said he. "I know that every word istrue, for you have hardly said a word which I did not know. No one but an acrobat or a sailor could have got up to thatbell-rope from the bracket, and no one but a sailor could havemade the knots with which the cord was fastened to the chair. Only once had this lady been brought into contact with sailors,and that was on her voyage, and it was someone of her own classof life, since she was trying hard to shield him and so showingthat she loved him. You see how easy it was for me to lay myhands upon you when once I had started upon the right trail."

"I thought the police never could have seen through our dodge."

"And the police haven't; nor will they, to the best of my belief. Now, look here, Captain Croker, this is a very serious matter,though I am willing to admit that you acted under the most extremeprovocation to which any man could be subjected. I am not surethat in defence of your own life your action will not be pronouncedlegitimate. However, that is for a British jury to decide. Meanwhile I have so much sympathy for you that if you choose todisappear in the next twenty-four hours I will promise you thatno one will hinder you."

"And then it will all come out?"

"Certainly it will come out."

The sailor flushed with anger.

"What sort of proposal is that to make a man? I know enoughof law to understand that Mary would be had as accomplice. Do you think I would leave her alone to face the music whileI slunk away? No, sir; let them do their worst upon me,but for Heaven's sake, Mr. Holmes, find some way of keepingmy poor Mary out of the courts."

Holmes for a second time held out his hand to the sailor.

"I was only testing you, and you ring true every time. Well, it is a great responsibility that I take upon myself,but I have given Hopkins an excellent hint, and if he can'tavail himself of it I can do no more. See here, Captain Croker,we'll do this in due form of law. You are the prisoner. Watson, you are a British jury, and I never met a man who wasmore eminently fitted to represent one. I am the judge. Now, gentleman of the jury, you have heard the evidence. Do you find the prisoner guilty or not guilty?"

"Not guilty, my lord," said I.

"Vox populi, vox Dei. You are acquitted, Captain Croker. So long as the law does not find some other victim you aresafe from me. Come back to this lady in a year, and may herfuture and yours justify us in the judgment which we havepronounced this night."---------------------------------------------------------------

I HAD intended "The Adventure of the Abbey Grange" to be thelast of those exploits of my friend, Mr. Sherlock Holmes, whichI should ever communicate to the public. This resolution ofmine was not due to any lack of material, since I have notes ofmany hundreds of cases to which I have never alluded, nor was itcaused by any waning interest on the part of my readers in thesingular personality and unique methods of this remarkable man.The real reason lay in the reluctance which Mr. Holmes has shownto the continued publication of his experiences. So long as hewas in actual professional practice the records of his successeswere of some practical value to him; but since he has definitelyretired from London and betaken himself to study and bee-farmingon the Sussex Downs, notoriety has become hateful to him, and hehas peremptorily requested that his wishes in this matter shouldbe strictly observed. It was only upon my representing to himthat I had given a promise that "The Adventure of the SecondStain" should be published when the times were ripe, andpointing out to him that it is only appropriate that this longseries of episodes should culminate in the most importantinternational case which he has ever been called upon to handle,that I at last succeeded in obtaining his consent that acarefully-guarded account of the incident should at last be laidbefore the public. If in telling the story I seem to besomewhat vague in certain details the public will readilyunderstand that there is an excellent reason for my reticence.

It was, then, in a year, and even in a decade, that shall benameless, that upon one Tuesday morning in autumn we found twovisitors of European fame within the walls of our humble roomin Baker Street. The one, austere, high-nosed, eagle-eyed,and dominant, was none other than the illustrious Lord Bellinger,twice Premier of Britain. The other, dark, clear-cut, andelegant, hardly yet of middle age, and endowed with every beautyof body and of mind, was the Right Honourable Trelawney Hope,Secretary for European Affairs, and the most rising statesmanin the country. They sat side by side upon our paper-litteredsettee, and it was easy to see from their worn and anxious facesthat it was business of the most pressing importance which hadbrought them. The Premier's thin, blue-veined hands wereclasped tightly over the ivory head of his umbrella, and hisgaunt, ascetic face looked gloomily from Holmes to me. The European Secretary pulled nervously at his moustache andfidgeted with the seals of his watch-chain.

"When I discovered my loss, Mr. Holmes, which was at eighto'clock this morning, I at once informed the Prime Minister. It was at his suggestion that we have both come to you."

"Have you informed the police?"

"No, sir," said the Prime Minister, with the quick, decisivemanner for which he was famous. "We have not done so, nor isit possible that we should do so. To inform the police must,in the long run, mean to inform the public. This is what weparticularly desire to avoid."

"And why, sir?"

"Because the document in question is of such immense importancethat its publication might very easily -- I might almost sayprobably -- lead to European complications of the utmost moment.It is not too much to say that peace or war may hang upon theissue. Unless its recovery can be attended with the utmostsecrecy, then it may as well not be recovered at all, for allthat is aimed at by those who have taken it is that its contentsshould be generally known."

"I understand. Now, Mr. Trelawney Hope, I should be muchobliged if you would tell me exactly the circumstances underwhich this document disappeared."

"That can be done in a very few words, Mr. Holmes. The letter -- for it was a letter from a foreign potentate --was received six days ago. It was of such importance that I havenever left it in my safe, but I have taken it across each eveningto my house in Whitehall Terrace, and kept it in my bedroom in alocked despatch-box. It was there last night. Of that I amcertain. I actually opened the box while I was dressing fordinner, and saw the document inside. This morning it was gone. The despatch-box had stood beside the glass upon my dressing-tableall night. I am a light sleeper, and so is my wife. We are bothprepared to swear that no one could have entered the room duringthe night. And yet I repeat that the paper is gone."

"What time did you dine?"

"Half-past seven."

"How long was it before you went to bed?"

"My wife had gone to the theatre. I waited up for her. It was half-past eleven before we went to our room."

"Then for four hours the despatch-box had lain unguarded?"

"No one is ever permitted to enter that room save the housemaidin the morning, and my valet, or my wife's maid, during the restof the day. They are both trusty servants who have been with usfor some time. Besides, neither of them could possibly haveknown that there was anything more valuable than the ordinarydepartmental papers in my despatch-box."

"Who did know of the existence of that letter?"

"No one in the house."

"Surely your wife knew?"

"No, sir; I had said nothing to my wife until I missed thepaper this morning."

The Premier nodded approvingly.

"I have long known, sir, how high is your sense of public duty,"said he. "I am convinced that in the case of a secret of thisimportance it would rise superior to the most intimate domestic ties."

The European Secretary bowed.

"You do me no more than justice, sir. Until this morning I havenever breathed one word to my wife upon this matter."

"Could she have guessed?"

"No, Mr. Holmes, she could not have guessed -- nor could anyonehave guessed."

"Have you lost any documents before?"

"No, sir."

"Who is there in England who did know of the existence of this letter?"

"Each member of the Cabinet was informed of it yesterday;but the pledge of secrecy which attends every Cabinet meetingwas increased by the solemn warning which was given by the PrimeMinister. Good heavens, to think that within a few hours Ishould myself have lost it!" His handsome face was distortedwith a spasm of despair, and his hands tore at his hair. For a moment we caught a glimpse of the natural man, impulsive,ardent, keenly sensitive. The next the aristocratic mask wasreplaced, and the gentle voice had returned. "Besides themembers of the Cabinet there are two, or possibly three,departmental officials who know of the letter. No one elsein England, Mr. Holmes, I assure you."

"But abroad?"

"I believe that no one abroad has seen it save the man who wrote it. I am well convinced that his Ministers -- that the usual officialchannels have not been employed."

Holmes considered for some little time.

"Now, sir, I must ask you more particularly what this document is,and why its disappearance should have such momentous consequences?"

The two statesmen exchanged a quick glance and the Premier'sshaggy eyebrows gathered in a frown.

"Mr. Holmes, the envelope is a long, thin one of pale blue colour. There is a seal of red wax stamped with a crouching lion. It is addressed in large, bold handwriting to ---"

"I fear, sir," said Holmes, "that, interesting and indeedessential as these details are, my inquiries must go more to theroot of things. What WAS the letter?"

"That is a State secret of the utmost importance, and I fearthat I cannot tell you, nor do I see that it is necessary. If by the aid of the powers which you are said to possess youcan find such an envelope as I describe with its enclosure,you will have deserved well of your country, and earned anyreward which it lies in our power to bestow."

Sherlock Holmes rose with a smile.

"You are two of the most busy men in the country," said he,"and in my own small way I have also a good many calls upon me. I regret exceedingly that I cannot help you in this matter,and any continuation of this interview would be a waste of time."

The Premier sprang to his feet with that quick, fierce gleam ofhis deep-set eyes before which a Cabinet has cowered. "I am notaccustomed, sir ----" he began, but mastered his anger andresumed his seat. For a minute or more we all sat in silence. Then the old statesman shrugged his shoulders.

"We must accept your terms, Mr. Holmes. No doubt you are right,and it is unreasonable for us to expect you to act unless wegive you our entire confidence."

"I agree with you, sir," said the younger statesman.

"Then I will tell you, relying entirely upon your honour andthat of your colleague, Dr. Watson. I may appeal to yourpatriotism also, for I could not imagine a greater misfortunefor the country than that this affair should come out."

"You may safely trust us."

"The letter, then, is from a certain foreign potentate who hasbeen ruffled by some recent Colonial developments of thiscountry. It has been written hurriedly and upon his ownresponsibility entirely. Inquiries have shown that hisMinisters know nothing of the matter. At the same time it iscouched in so unfortunate a manner, and certain phrases in itare of so provocative a character, that its publication wouldundoubtedly lead to a most dangerous state of feeling in thiscountry. There would be such a ferment, sir, that I do nothesitate to say that within a week of the publication of thatletter this country would be involved in a great war."

Holmes wrote a name upon a slip of paper and handed it to thePremier.

"Exactly. It was he. And it is this letter -- this letter whichmay well mean the expenditure of a thousand millions and thelives of a hundred thousand men -- which has become lost in thisunaccountable fashion."

"Have you informed the sender?"

"Yes, sir, a cipher telegram has been despatched."

"Perhaps he desires the publication of the letter."

"No, sir, we have strong reason to believe that he alreadyunderstands that he has acted in an indiscreet and hot-headedmanner. It would be a greater blow to him and to his countrythan to us if this letter were to come out."

"If this is so, whose interest is it that the letter shouldcome out? Why should anyone desire to steal it or to publish it?"

"There, Mr. Holmes, you take me into regions of highinternational politics. But if you consider the Europeansituation you will have no difficulty in perceiving the motive.The whole of Europe is an armed camp. There is a double leaguewhich makes a fair balance of military power. Great Britainholds the scales. If Britain were driven into war with oneconfederacy, it would assure the supremacy of the otherconfederacy, whether they joined in the war or not. Do you follow?"

"Very clearly. It is then the interest of the enemies of thispotentate to secure and publish this letter, so as to make abreach between his country and ours?"

"Yes, sir."

"And to whom would this document be sent if it fell into thehands of an enemy?"

"To any of the great Chancelleries of Europe. It is probablyspeeding on its way thither at the present instant as fast assteam can take it."

Mr. Trelawney Hope dropped his head on his chest and groanedaloud. The Premier placed his hand kindly upon his shoulder.

"It is your misfortune, my dear fellow. No one can blame you.There is no precaution which you have neglected. Now, Mr. Holmes, you are in full possession of the facts. What course do you recommend?"

Holmes shook his head mournfully.

"You think, sir, that unless this document is recovered therewill be war?"

"I think it is very probable."

"Then, sir, prepare for war."

"That is a hard saying, Mr. Holmes."

"Consider the facts, sir. It is inconceivable that it was takenafter eleven-thirty at night, since I understand that Mr. Hopeand his wife were both in the room from that hour until the losswas found out. It was taken, then, yesterday evening betweenseven-thirty and eleven-thirty, probably near the earlier hour,since whoever took it evidently knew that it was there and wouldnaturally secure it as early as possible. Now, sir, if adocument of this importance were taken at that hour, where canit be now? No one has any reason to retain it. It has beenpassed rapidly on to those who need it. What chance have we nowto overtake or even to trace it? It is beyond our reach."

The Prime Minister rose from the settee.

"What you say is perfectly logical, Mr. Holmes. I feel that thematter is indeed out of our hands."

"Let us presume, for argument's sake, that the document wastaken by the maid or by the valet ----"

"They are both old and tried servants."

"I understand you to say that your room is on the second floor,that there is no entrance from without, and that from within noone could go up unobserved. It must, then, be somebody in thehouse who has taken it. To whom would the thief take it? To one of several international spies and secret agents, whosenames are tolerably familiar to me. There are three who may besaid to be the heads of their profession. I will begin myresearch by going round and finding if each of them is at hispost. If one is missing -- especially if he has disappearedsince last night -- we will have some indication as to wherethe document has gone."

"Why should he be missing?" asked the European Secretary. "He would take the letter to an Embassy in London, as likely as not."

"I fancy not. These agents work independently, and theirrelations with the Embassies are often strained."

The Prime Minister nodded his acquiescence.

"I believe you are right, Mr. Holmes. He would take so valuablea prize to head-quarters with his own hands. I think that yourcourse of action is an excellent one. Meanwhile, Hope,we cannot neglect all our other duties on account of this onemisfortune. Should there be any fresh developments during theday we shall communicate with you, and you will no doubt let usknow the results of your own inquiries."

The two statesmen bowed and walked gravely from the room.

When our illustrious visitors had departed Holmes lit his pipein silence, and sat for some time lost in the deepest thought. I had opened the morning paper and was immersed in a sensationalcrime which had occurred in London the night before, when myfriend gave an exclamation, sprang to his feet, and laid hispipe down upon the mantelpiece.

"Yes," said he, "there is no better way of approaching it. The situation is desperate, but not hopeless. Even now,if we could be sure which of them has taken it, it is justpossible that it has not yet passed out of his hands. After all, it is a question of money with these fellows,and I have the British Treasury behind me. If it's on themarket I'll buy it -- if it means another penny on the income-tax. It is conceivable that the fellow might hold it back to see whatbids come from this side before he tries his luck on the other. There are only those three capable of playing so bold a game;there are Oberstein, La Rothiere, and Eduardo Lucas. I will see each of them."

I glanced at my morning paper.

"Is that Eduardo Lucas of Godolphin Street?"

"Yes."

"You will not see him."

"Why not?"

"He was murdered in his house last night."

My friend has so often astonished me in the course of ouradventures that it was with a sense of exultation that Irealized how completely I had astonished him. He stared inamazement, and then snatched the paper from my hands. This wasthe paragraph which I had been engaged in reading when he rosefrom his chair:--

"MURDER IN WESTMINSTER.

"A crime of mysterious character was committed last night at 16,Godolphin Street, one of the old-fashioned and secluded rows ofeighteenth-century houses which lie between the river and theAbbey, almost in the shadow of the great Tower of the Houses ofParliament. This small but select mansion has been inhabitedfor some years by Mr. Eduardo Lucas, well known in societycircles both on account of his charming personality and becausehe has the well-deserved reputation of being one of the bestamateur tenors in the country. Mr. Lucas is an unmarried man,thirty-four years of age, and his establishment consists ofMrs. Pringle, an elderly housekeeper, and of Mitton, his valet. The former retires early and sleeps at the top of the house. The valet was out for the evening, visiting a friend at Hammersmith.From ten o'clock onwards Mr. Lucas had the house to himself. What occurred during that time has not yet transpired, but ata quarter to twelve Police-constable Barrett, passing alongGodolphin Street, observed that the door of No. 16 was ajar. He knocked, but received no answer. Perceiving a light inthe front room he advanced into the passage and again knocked,but without reply. He then pushed open the door and entered. The room was in a state of wild disorder, the furniture beingall swept to one side, and one chair lying on its back in thecentre. Beside this chair, and still grasping one of its legs,lay the unfortunate tenant of the house. He had been stabbedto the heart and must have died instantly. The knife with whichthe crime had been committed was a curved Indian dagger, pluckeddown from a trophy of Oriental arms which adorned one of thewalls. Robbery does not appear to have been the motive of thecrime, for there had been no attempt to remove the valuablecontents of the room. Mr. Eduardo Lucas was so well known andpopular that his violent and mysterious fate will arouse painfulinterest and intense sympathy in a wide-spread circle of friends."

"Well, Watson, what do you make of this?" asked Holmes,after a long pause.

"It is an amazing coincidence."

"A coincidence! Here is one of the three men whom we had namedas possible actors in this drama, and he meets a violent deathduring the very hours when we know that that drama was beingenacted. The odds are enormous against its being coincidence. No figures could express them. No, my dear Watson, the twoevents are connected -- MUST be connected. It is for us to findthe connection."

"But now the official police must know all."

"Not at all. They know all they see at Godolphin Street. They know -- and shall know -- nothing of Whitehall Terrace. Only WE know of both events, and can trace the relation between them. There is one obvious point which would, in any case, have turnedmy suspicions against Lucas. Godolphin Street, Westminster,is only a few minutes' walk from Whitehall Terrace. The othersecret agents whom I have named live in the extreme West-end. It was easier, therefore, for Lucas than for the others toestablish a connection or receive a message from the EuropeanSecretary's household -- a small thing, and yet where events arecompressed into a few hours it may prove essential. Halloa! what have we here?"

Mrs. Hudson had appeared with a lady's card upon her salver.Holmes glanced at it, raised his eyebrows, and handed it over to me.

"Ask Lady Hilda Trelawney Hope if she will be kind enough tostep up," said he.

A moment later our modest apartment, already so distinguishedthat morning, was further honoured by the entrance of the mostlovely woman in London. I had often heard of the beauty of theyoungest daughter of the Duke of Belminster, but no descriptionof it, and no contemplation of colourless photographs, hadprepared me for the subtle, delicate charm and the beautifulcolouring of that exquisite head. And yet as we saw it thatautumn morning, it was not its beauty which would be the firstthing to impress the observer. The cheek was lovely, but itwas paled with emotion; the eyes were bright, but it was thebrightness of fever; the sensitive mouth was tight and drawn inan effort after self-command. Terror -- not beauty -- was whatsprang first to the eye as our fair visitor stood framed for aninstant in the open door.

"Has my husband been here, Mr. Holmes?"

"Yes, madam, he has been here."

"Mr. Holmes, I implore you not to tell him that I came here."Holmes bowed coldly, and motioned the lady to a chair.

"Your ladyship places me in a very delicate position. I beg that you will sit down and tell me what you desire;but I fear that I cannot make any unconditional promise."

She swept across the room and seated herself with her backto the window. It was a queenly presence -- tall, graceful,and intensely womanly.

"Mr. Holmes," she said, and her white-gloved hands clasped andunclasped as she spoke -- "I will speak frankly to you in thehope that it may induce you to speak frankly in return. Thereis complete confidence between my husband and me on all matterssave one. That one is politics. On this his lips are sealed. He tells me nothing. Now, I am aware that there was a mostdeplorable occurrence in our house last night. I know that apaper has disappeared. But because the matter is political myhusband refuses to take me into his complete confidence. Now itis essential -- essential, I say -- that I should thoroughlyunderstand it. You are the only other person, save only thesepoliticians, who knows the true facts. I beg you, then,Mr. Holmes, to tell me exactly what has happened and what itwill lead to. Tell me all, Mr. Holmes. Let no regard for yourclient's interests keep you silent, for I assure you that hisinterests, if he would only see it, would be best served bytaking me into his complete confidence. What was this paperwhich was stolen?"

"Madam, what you ask me is really impossible."

She groaned and sank her face in her hands.

"You must see that this is so, madam. If your husband thinksfit to keep you in the dark over this matter, is it for me, whohas only learned the true facts under the pledge of professionalsecrecy, to tell what he has withheld? It is not fair to ask it. It is him whom you must ask."

"I have asked him. I come to you as a last resource. But withoutyour telling me anything definite, Mr. Holmes, you may do a greatservice if you would enlighten me on one point."

"What is it, madam?"

"Is my husband's political career likely to suffer throughthis incident?"

"Well, madam, unless it is set right it may certainly havea very unfortunate effect."

"Ah!" She drew in her breath sharply as one whose doubtsare resolved.

"One more question, Mr. Holmes. From an expression which myhusband dropped in the first shock of this disaster I understoodthat terrible public consequences might arise from the loss ofthis document."

"If he said so, I certainly cannot deny it."

"Of what nature are they?"

"Nay, madam, there again you ask me more than I can possibly answer."

"Then I will take up no more of your time. I cannot blame you,Mr. Holmes, for having refused to speak more freely, and you onyour side will not, I am sure, think the worse of me becauseI desire, even against his will, to share my husband's anxieties.Once more I beg that you will say nothing of my visit." She looked back at us from the door, and I had a last impressionof that beautiful haunted face, the startled eyes, and the drawnmouth. Then she was gone.

"Now, Watson, the fair sex is your department," said Holmes,with a smile, when the dwindling frou-frou of skirts had endedin the slam of the front door. "What was the fair lady's game?What did she really want?"

"Surely her own statement is clear and her anxiety very natural."

"Hum! Think of her appearance, Watson -- her manner,her suppressed excitement, her restlessness, her tenacityin asking questions. Remember that she comes of a castewho do not lightly show emotion."

"She was certainly much moved."

"Remember also the curious earnestness with which she assuredus that it was best for her husband that she should know all. What did she mean by that? And you must have observed, Watson,how she manoeuvred to have the light at her back. She did notwish us to read her expression."

"Yes; she chose the one chair in the room."

"And yet the motives of women are so inscrutable. You rememberthe woman at Margate whom I suspected for the same reason. No powder on her nose -- that proved to be the correct solution. How can you build on such a quicksand? Their most trivial actionmay mean volumes, or their most extraordinary conduct may dependupon a hairpin or a curling-tongs. Good morning, Watson."

"You are off?"

"Yes; I will wile away the morning at Godolphin Street with ourfriends of the regular establishment. With Eduardo Lucas liesthe solution of our problem, though I must admit that I have notan inkling as to what form it may take. It is a capital mistaketo theorize in advance of the facts. Do you stay on guard, mygood Watson, and receive any fresh visitors. I'll join you atlunch if I am able."

All that day and the next and the next Holmes was in a moodwhich his friends would call taciturn, and others morose. He ran out and ran in, smoked incessantly, played snatches onhis violin, sank into reveries, devoured sandwiches at irregularhours, and hardly answered the casual questions which I put tohim. It was evident to me that things were not going well withhim or his quest. He would say nothing of the case, and it wasfrom the papers that I learned the particulars of the inquest,and the arrest with the subsequent release of John Mitton,the valet of the deceased. The coroner's jury brought in theobvious "Wilful Murder," but the parties remained as unknown asever. No motive was suggested. The room was full of articlesof value, but none had been taken. The dead man's papers hadnot been tampered with. They were carefully examined,and showed that he was a keen student of international politics,an indefatigable gossip, a remarkable linguist, and an untiringletter-writer. He had been on intimate terms with the leadingpoliticians of several countries. But nothing sensational wasdiscovered among the documents which filled his drawers. As tohis relations with women, they appeared to have been promiscuousbut superficial. He had many acquaintances among them, but fewfriends, and no one whom he loved. His habits were regular,his conduct inoffensive. His death was an absolute mystery,and likely to remain so.

As to the arrest of John Mitton, the valet, it was a counselof despair as an alternative to absolute inaction. But no casecould be sustained against him. He had visited friends inHammersmith that night. The ALIBI was complete. It is truethat he started home at an hour which should have brought himto Westminster before the time when the crime was discovered,but his own explanation that he had walked part of the wayseemed probable enough in view of the fineness of the night. He had actually arrived at twelve o'clock, and appeared to beoverwhelmed by the unexpected tragedy. He had always been ongood terms with his master. Several of the dead man'spossessions -- notably a small case of razors -- had been found inthe valet's boxes, but he explained that they had been presentsfrom the deceased, and the housekeeper was able to corroboratethe story. Mitton had been in Lucas's employment for threeyears. It was noticeable that Lucas did not take Mitton on theContinent with him. Sometimes he visited Paris for three monthson end, but Mitton was left in charge of the Godolphin Streethouse. As to the housekeeper, she had heard nothing on thenight of the crime. If her master had a visitor he had himselfadmitted him.

So for three mornings the mystery remained, so far as I couldfollow it in the papers. If Holmes knew more he kept his owncounsel, but, as he told me that Inspector Lestrade had takenhim into his confidence in the case, I knew that he was inclose touch with every development. Upon the fourth day thereappeared a long telegram from Paris which seemed to solve thewhole question.

"A discovery has just been made by the Parisian police," saidthe DAILY TELEGRAPH, "which raises the veil which hung round thetragic fate of Mr. Eduardo Lucas, who met his death by violencelast Monday night at Godolphin Street, Westminster. Our readerswill remember that the deceased gentleman was found stabbed inhis room, and that some suspicion attached to his valet, butthat the case broke down on an ALIBI. Yesterday a lady, who hasbeen known as Mme. Henri Fournaye, occupying a small villa inthe Rue Austerlitz, was reported to the authorities by herservants as being insane. An examination showed that she hadindeed developed mania of a dangerous and permanent form. On inquiry the police have discovered that Mme. Henri Fournayeonly returned from a journey to London on Tuesday last, and thereis evidence to connect her with the crime at Westminster. A comparison of photographs has proved conclusively that M. HenriFournaye and Eduardo Lucas were really one and the same person,and that the deceased had for some reason lived a double lifein London and Paris. Mme. Fournaye, who is of Creole origin,is of an extremely excitable nature, and has suffered in thepast from attacks of jealousy which have amounted to frenzy. It is conjectured that it was in one of these that she committedthe terrible crime which has caused such a sensation in London. Her movements upon the Monday night have not yet been traced,but it is undoubted that a woman answering to her descriptionattracted much attention at Charing Cross Station on Tuesdaymorning by the wildness of her appearance and the violence ofher gestures. It is probable, therefore, that the crime waseither committed when insane, or that its immediate effect wasto drive the unhappy woman out of her mind. At present sheis unable to give any coherent account of the past, and thedoctors hold out no hopes of the re-establishment of her reason. There is evidence that a woman, who might have been Mme. Fournaye,was seen for some hours on Monday night watching the house inGodolphin Street."

"What do you think of that, Holmes?" I had read the accountaloud to him, while he finished his breakfast.

"My dear Watson," said he, as he rose from the table and pacedup and down the room, "you are most long-suffering, but if Ihave told you nothing in the last three days it is because thereis nothing to tell. Even now this report from Paris does nothelp us much."

"Surely it is final as regards the man's death."

"The man's death is a mere incident -- a trivial episode -- incomparison with our real task, which is to trace this documentand save a European catastrophe. Only one important thing hashappened in the last three days, and that is that nothing hashappened. I get reports almost hourly from the Government,and it is certain that nowhere in Europe is there any sign oftrouble. Now, if this letter were loose -- no, it CAN'T beloose -- but if it isn't loose, where can it be? Who has it? Why is it held back? That's the question that beats in my brainlike a hammer. Was it, indeed, a coincidence that Lucas shouldmeet his death on the night when the letter disappeared? Did the letter ever reach him? If so, why is it not among hispapers? Did this mad wife of his carry it off with her? If so,is it in her house in Paris? How could I search for it withoutthe French police having their suspicions aroused? It is a case,my dear Watson, where the law is as dangerous to us as thecriminals are. Every man's hand is against us, and yet theinterests at stake are colossal. Should I bring it to asuccessful conclusion it will certainly represent the crowningglory of my career. Ah, here is my latest from the front!" He glanced hurriedly at the note which had been handed in. "Halloa! Lestrade seems to have observed something of interest. Put on your hat, Watson, and we will stroll down together toWestminster."

It was my first visit to the scene of the crime -- a high, dingy,narrow-chested house, prim, formal, and solid, like the centurywhich gave it birth. Lestrade's bulldog features gazed out atus from the front window, and he greeted us warmly when a bigconstable had opened the door and let us in. The room intowhich we were shown was that in which the crime had beencommitted, but no trace of it now remained, save an ugly,irregular stain upon the carpet. This carpet was a small squaredrugget in the centre of the room, surrounded by a broad expanseof beautiful, old-fashioned wood-flooring in square blockshighly polished. Over the fireplace was a magnificent trophyof weapons, one of which had been used on that tragic night. In the window was a sumptuous writing-desk, and every detail ofthe apartment, the pictures, the rugs, and the hangings, allpointed to a taste which was luxurious to the verge of effeminacy.

"Seen the Paris news?" asked Lestrade.

Holmes nodded.

"Our French friends seem to have touched the spot this time. No doubt it's just as they say. She knocked at the door --surprise visit, I guess, for he kept his life in water-tightcompartments. He let her in -- couldn't keep her in the street.She told him how she had traced him, reproached him, one thingled to another, and then with that dagger so handy the end sooncame. It wasn't all done in an instant, though, for thesechairs were all swept over yonder, and he had one in his hand asif he had tried to hold her off with it. We've got it all clearas if we had seen it."

Holmes raised his eyebrows.

"And yet you have sent for me?"

"Ah, yes, that's another matter -- a mere trifle, but the sortof thing you take an interest in -- queer, you know, and whatyou might call freakish. It has nothing to do with the mainfact -- can't have, on the face of it."

"What is it, then?"

"Well, you know, after a crime of this sort we are very carefulto keep things in their position. Nothing has been moved.Officer in charge here day and night. This morning, as the manwas buried and the investigation over -- so far as this room isconcerned -- we thought we could tidy up a bit. This carpet. You see, it is not fastened down; only just laid there. We hadoccasion to raise it. We found ----"

"Yes? You found ----"

Holmes's face grew tense with anxiety.

"Well, I'm sure you would never guess in a hundred years what wedid find. You see that stain on the carpet? Well, a great dealmust have soaked through, must it not?"

"Undoubtedly it must."

"Well, you will be surprised to hear that there is no stain onthe white woodwork to correspond."

"No stain! But there must ----"

"Yes; so you would say. But the fact remains that there isn't."

He took the corner of the carpet in his hand and, turning it over,he showed that it was indeed as he said.

"But the underside is as stained as the upper. It must haveleft a mark."

Lestrade chuckled with delight at having puzzled the famous expert.

"Now I'll show you the explanation. There IS a second stain,but it does not correspond with the other. See for yourself." As he spoke he turned over another portion of the carpet, andthere, sure enough, was a great crimson spill upon the squarewhite facing of the old-fashioned floor. "What do you make ofthat, Mr. Holmes?"

"Why, it is simple enough. The two stains did correspond,but the carpet has been turned round. As it was square andunfastened it was easily done."

The official police don't need you, Mr. Holmes, to tell themthat the carpet must have been turned round. That's clear enough,for the stains lie above each other -- if you lay it over this way. But what I want to know is, who shifted the carpet, and why?"

I could see from Holmes's rigid face that he was vibrating withinward excitement.

"Look here, Lestrade," said he, "has that constable in thepassage been in charge of the place all the time?"

"Yes, he has."

"Well, take my advice. Examine him carefully. Don't do itbefore us. We'll wait here. You take him into the back room. You'll be more likely to get a confession out of him alone. Ask him how he dared to admit people and leave them alone in thisroom. Don't ask him if he has done it. Take it for granted. Tell him you KNOW someone has been here. Press him. Tell himthat a full confession is his only chance of forgiveness. Do exactly what I tell you!"

"By George, if he knows I'll have it out of him!" cried Lestrade. He darted into the hall, and a few moments later his bullyingvoice sounded from the back room.

"Now, Watson, now!" cried Holmes, with frenzied eagerness. All the demoniacal force of the man masked behind that listlessmanner burst out in a paroxysm of energy. He tore the druggetfrom the floor, and in an instant was down on his hands andknees clawing at each of the squares of wood beneath it. One turned sideways as he dug his nails into the edge of it. It hinged back like the lid of a box. A small black cavityopened beneath it. Holmes plunged his eager hand into it,and drew it out with a bitter snarl of anger and disappointment. It was empty.

"Quick, Watson, quick! Get it back again!" The wooden lid wasreplaced, and the drugget had only just been drawn straight whenLestrade's voice was heard in the passage. He found Holmesleaning languidly against the mantelpiece, resigned and patient,endeavouring to conceal his irrepressible yawns.

"Sorry to keep you waiting, Mr. Holmes. I can see that you arebored to death with the whole affair. Well, he has confessed,all right. Come in here, MacPherson. Let these gentlemen hearof your most inexcusable conduct."

The big constable, very hot and penitent, sidled into the room.

"I meant no harm, sir, I'm sure. The young woman came to thedoor last evening -- mistook the house, she did. And then wegot talking. It's lonesome, when you're on duty here all day."

"Well, what happened then?"

"She wanted to see where the crime was done -- had read aboutit in the papers, she said. She was a very respectable,well-spoken young woman, sir, and I saw no harm in letting herhave a peep. When she saw that mark on the carpet, down shedropped on the floor, and lay as if she were dead. I ran to theback and got some water, but I could not bring her to. Then Iwent round the corner to the Ivy Plant for some brandy, and bythe time I had brought it back the young woman had recovered andwas off -- ashamed of herself, I dare say, and dared not face me."

"How about moving that drugget?"

"Well, sir, it was a bit rumpled, certainly, when I came back.You see, she fell on it, and it lies on a polished floor withnothing to keep it in place. I straightened it out afterwards."

"It's a lesson to you that you can't deceive me, ConstableMacPherson," said Lestrade, with dignity. "No doubt you thoughtthat your breach of duty could never be discovered, and yet amere glance at that drugget was enough to convince me thatsomeone had been admitted to the room. It's lucky for you,my man, that nothing is missing, or you would find yourself inQueer Street. I'm sorry to have called you down over such apetty business, Mr. Holmes, but I thought the point of the secondstain not corresponding with the first would interest you."

"Certainly, it was most interesting. Has this woman only beenhere once, constable?"

"Yes, sir, only once."

"Who was she?"

"Don't know the name, sir. Was answering an advertisement abouttype-writing, and came to the wrong number -- very pleasant,genteel young woman, sir."

"Tall? Handsome?"

"Yes, sir; she was a well-grown young woman. I suppose youmight say she was handsome. Perhaps some would say she wasvery handsome. `Oh, officer, do let me have a peep!' says she. She had pretty, coaxing ways, as you might say, and I thought therewas no harm in letting her just put her head through the door."

"How was she dressed?"

"Quiet, sir -- a long mantle down to her feet."

"What time was it?"

"It was just growing dusk at the time. They were lighting thelamps as I came back with the brandy."

"Very good," said Holmes. "Come, Watson, I think that we havemore important work elsewhere."

As we left the house Lestrade remained in the front room,while the repentant constable opened the door to let us out. Holmes turned on the step and held up something in his hand. The constable stared intently.

"Good Lord, sir!" he cried, with amazement on his face. Holmes put his finger on his lips, replaced his hand in hisbreast-pocket, and burst out laughing as we turned down the street."Excellent!" said he. "Come, friend Watson, the curtain ringsup for the last act. You will be relieved to hear that therewill be no war, that the Right Honourable Trelawney Hope willsuffer no set-back in his brilliant career, that the indiscreetSovereign will receive no punishment for his indiscretion, thatthe Prime Minister will have no European complication to dealwith, and that with a little tact and management upon our partnobody will be a penny the worse for what might have been a veryugly incident."

My mind filled with admiration for this extraordinary man.

"You have solved it!" I cried.

"Hardly that, Watson. There are some points which are as darkas ever. But we have so much that it will be our own fault ifwe cannot get the rest. We will go straight to WhitehallTerrace and bring the matter to a head."

When we arrived at the residence of the European Secretary itwas for Lady Hilda Trelawney Hope that Sherlock Holmes inquired.We were shown into the morning-room.

"Mr. Holmes!" said the lady, and her face was pink with herindignation, "this is surely most unfair and ungenerous uponyour part. I desired, as I have explained, to keep my visit toyou a secret, lest my husband should think that I was intrudinginto his affairs. And yet you compromise me by coming here andso showing that there are business relations between us."

"Unfortunately, madam, I had no possible alternative. I havebeen commissioned to recover this immensely important paper. I must therefore ask you, madam, to be kind enough to placeit in my hands."

The lady sprang to her feet, with the colour all dashed in aninstant from her beautiful face. Her eyes glazed -- shetottered -- I thought that she would faint. Then with a grandeffort she rallied from the shock, and a supreme astonishmentand indignation chased every other expression from her features.

"You -- you insult me, Mr. Holmes."

"Come, come, madam, it is useless. Give up the letter."

She darted to the bell.

"The butler shall show you out."

"Do not ring, Lady Hilda. If you do, then all my earnest effortsto avoid a scandal will be frustrated. Give up the letter andall will be set right. If you will work with me I can arrangeeverything. If you work against me I must expose you."

She stood grandly defiant, a queenly figure, her eyes fixed uponhis as if she would read his very soul. Her hand was on thebell, but she had forborne to ring it.

"You are trying to frighten me. It is not a very manly thing,Mr. Holmes, to come here and browbeat a woman. You say that youknow something. What is it that you know?"

"Pray sit down, madam. You will hurt yourself there if you fall.I will not speak until you sit down. Thank you."

"I give you five minutes, Mr. Holmes."

"One is enough, Lady Hilda. I know of your visit to EduardoLucas, of your giving him this document, of your ingeniousreturn to the room last night, and of the manner in which youtook the letter from the hiding-place under the carpet."

She stared at him with an ashen face and gulped twice before shecould speak.

"You are mad, Mr. Holmes -- you are mad!" she cried, at last.

He drew a small piece of cardboard from his pocket. It was theface of a woman cut out of a portrait.

"I have carried this because I thought it might be useful,"said he. "The policeman has recognised it."

She gave a gasp and her head dropped back in the chair.

"Come, Lady Hilda. You have the letter. The matter maystill be adjusted. I have no desire to bring trouble to you. My duty ends when I have returned the lost letter to your husband. Take my advice and be frank with me; it is your only chance."

Her courage was admirable. Even now she would not own defeat.

"I tell you again, Mr. Holmes, that you are under some absurdillusion."

Holmes rose from his chair.

"I am sorry for you, Lady Hilda. I have done my best for you;I can see that it is all in vain."

He rang the bell. The butler entered.

"Is Mr. Trelawney Hope at home?"

"He will be home, sir, at a quarter to one."

Holmes glanced at his watch.

"Still a quarter of an hour," said he. "Very good, I shall wait."

The butler had hardly closed the door behind him when Lady Hildawas down on her knees at Holmes's feet, her hands out-stretched,her beautiful face upturned and wet with her tears.

"Oh, spare me, Mr. Holmes! Spare me!" she pleaded, in a frenzyof supplication. "For Heaven's sake, don't tell him! I lovehim so! I would not bring one shadow on his life, and this Iknow would break his noble heart."

Holmes raised the lady. "I am thankful, madam, that you havecome to your senses even at this last moment! There is not aninstant to lose. Where is the letter?"

She darted across to a writing-desk, unlocked it, and drew outa long blue envelope.

"Here it is, Mr. Holmes. Would to Heaven I had never seen it!"

"How can we return it?" Holmes muttered. "Quick, quick,we must think of some way! Where is the despatch-box?"

"Still in his bedroom."

"What a stroke of luck! Quick, madam, bring it here!"

A moment later she had appeared with a red flat box in her hand.

"How did you open it before? You have a duplicate key? Yes, of course you have. Open it!"

From out of her bosom Lady Hilda had drawn a small key. The box flew open. It was stuffed with papers. Holmes thrustthe blue envelope deep down into the heart of them, betweenthe leaves of some other document. The box was shut, locked,and returned to the bedroom.

"Now we are ready for him," said Holmes; "we have still tenminutes. I am going far to screen you, Lady Hilda. In returnyou will spend the time in telling me frankly the real meaningof this extraordinary affair."

"Mr. Holmes, I will tell you everything," cried the lady. "Oh, Mr. Holmes, I would cut off my right hand before I gave hima moment of sorrow! There is no woman in all London who loves herhusband as I do, and yet if he knew how I have acted -- how I havebeen compelled to act -- he would never forgive me. For his ownhonour stands so high that he could not forget or pardon a lapsein another. Help me, Mr. Holmes! My happiness, his happiness,our very lives are at stake!"

"Quick, madam, the time grows short!"

"It was a letter of mine, Mr. Holmes, an indiscreet letterwritten before my marriage -- a foolish letter, a letter of animpulsive, loving girl. I meant no harm, and yet he would havethought it criminal. Had he read that letter his confidencewould have been for ever destroyed. It is years since I wrote it. I had thought that the whole matter was forgotten. Then at lastI heard from this man, Lucas, that it had passed into his hands,and that he would lay it before my husband. I implored his mercy. He said that he would return my letter if I would bring him acertain document which he described in my husband's despatch-box. He had some spy in the office who had told him of its existence. He assured me that no harm could come to my husband. Put yourselfin my position, Mr. Holmes! What was I to do?"

"Take your husband into your confidence."

"I could not, Mr. Holmes, I could not! On the one side seemedcertain ruin; on the other, terrible as it seemed to take myhusband's paper, still in a matter of politics I could notunderstand the consequences, while in a matter of love and trustthey were only too clear to me. I did it, Mr. Holmes! I tookan impression of his key; this man Lucas furnished a duplicate.I opened his despatch-box, took the paper, and conveyed it toGodolphin Street."

"What happened there, madam?"

"I tapped at the door as agreed. Lucas opened it. I followedhim into his room, leaving the hall door ajar behind me, for Ifeared to be alone with the man. I remember that there was awoman outside as I entered. Our business was soon done. He hadmy letter on his desk; I handed him the document. He gave methe letter. At this instant there was a sound at the door. There were steps in the passage. Lucas quickly turned back thedrugget, thrust the document into some hiding-place there, andcovered it over.

"What happened after that is like some fearful dream. I have a vision of a dark, frantic face, of a woman's voice,which screamed in French, `My waiting is not in vain. At last,at last I have found you with her!' There was a savage struggle. I saw him with a chair in his hand, a knife gleamed in hers. I rushed from the horrible scene, ran from the house, and onlynext morning in the paper did I learn the dreadful result. That night I was happy, for I had my letter, and I had not seenyet what the future would bring.

"It was the next morning that I realized that I had onlyexchanged one trouble for another. My husband's anguish at theloss of his paper went to my heart. I could hardly preventmyself from there and then kneeling down at his feet and tellinghim what I had done. But that again would mean a confession ofthe past. I came to you that morning in order to understand thefull enormity of my offence. From the instant that I grasped itmy whole mind was turned to the one thought of getting back myhusband's paper. It must still be where Lucas had placed it,for it was concealed before this dreadful woman entered theroom. If it had not been for her coming, I should not haveknown where his hiding-place was. How was I to get into theroom? For two days I watched the place, but the door was neverleft open. Last night I made a last attempt. What I did andhow I succeeded, you have already learned. I brought the paperback with me, and thought of destroying it since I could see noway of returning it, without confessing my guilt to my husband. Heavens, I hear his step upon the stair!"

The European Secretary burst excitedly into the room.

"Any news, Mr. Holmes, any news?" he cried.

"I have some hopes."

"Ah, thank heaven!" His face became radiant. "The PrimeMinister is lunching with me. May he share your hopes? He hasnerves of steel, and yet I know that he has hardly slept sincethis terrible event. Jacobs, will you ask the Prime Ministerto come up? As to you, dear, I fear that this is a matter ofpolitics. We will join you in a few minutes in the dining-room."

The Prime Minister's manner was subdued, but I could see bythe gleam of his eyes and the twitchings of his bony handsthat he shared the excitement of his young colleague.

"I understand that you have something to report, Mr. Holmes?"

"Purely negative as yet," my friend answered. "I have inquiredat every point where it might be, and I am sure that there is nodanger to be apprehended."

"But that is not enough, Mr. Holmes. We cannot live for everon such a volcano. We must have something definite."

"I am in hopes of getting it. That is why I am here. The more I think of the matter the more convinced I amthat the letter has never left this house."

"Mr. Holmes!"

"If it had it would certainly have been public by now."

"But why should anyone take it in order to keep it in his house?"

"I am not convinced that anyone did take it."

"Then how could it leave the despatch-box?"

"I am not convinced that it ever did leave the despatch-box."

"Mr. Holmes, this joking is very ill-timed. You have myassurance that it left the box."

"Have you examined the box since Tuesday morning?"

"No; it was not necessary."

"You may conceivably have overlooked it."

"Impossible, I say."

"But I am not convinced of it; I have known such things to happen. I presume there are other papers there. Well, it may have gotmixed with them."

"It was on the top."

"Someone may have shaken the box and displaced it."

"No, no; I had everything out."

"Surely it is easily decided, Hope," said the Premier. "Let us have the despatch-box brought in."

The Secretary rang the bell.

"Jacobs, bring down my despatch-box. This is a farcical wasteof time, but still, if nothing else will satisfy you, it shallbe done. Thank you, Jacobs; put it here. I have always had thekey on my watch-chain. Here are the papers, you see. Letterfrom Lord Merrow, report from Sir Charles Hardy, memorandum fromBelgrade, note on the Russo-German grain taxes, letter fromMadrid, note from Lord Flowers -- good heavens! what is this?Lord Bellinger! Lord Bellinger!"

The Premier snatched the blue envelope from his hand.

"Yes, it is it -- and the letter is intact. Hope, I congratulate you."

"Thank you! Thank you! What a weight from my heart. But thisis inconceivable -- impossible. Mr. Holmes, you are a wizard,a sorcerer! How did you know it was there?"

"Because I knew it was nowhere else."

"I cannot believe my eyes!" He ran wildly to the door. "Where is my wife? I must tell her that all is well. Hilda! Hilda!" we heard his voice on the stairs.

The Premier looked at Holmes with twinkling eyes.

"Come, sir," said he. "There is more in this than meets the eye. How came the letter back in the box?"